


Stories From the Suburbs

by RandyWrites



Series: AU: Purified Murder Family [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-10-13 03:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17480432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandyWrites/pseuds/RandyWrites
Summary: There's never a dull moment at the Roth-Wilson household(prompt collection from tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

Raven, being only six years of age when she and her mother left the dimension of her birth, could only be certain of a few things in this strange new world she lived in. The first, that people tended to act very unpredictably. The second, that ‘people’, unfortunately, included her own mother as well. And a third, that even in those little unpredictable moments, fate tended to flow in a favorable direction for them once every so often.

None of this she was thinking of when she picked up the phone, of course. But it was certainly playing in the back of her mind later that day when Arella had picked her up, taken her to their car, and told her they were on their way to meet someone.

But that’s getting a bit ahead of ourselves, isn’t it?

First, the phone call.

She’d been practicing for just such a moment as this. She’d done very well when Arella had her practice calling 9-1-1 for emergencies (not that she’d want to, she KNEW she could protect her mom if need be). But she’d been waiting for a moment such as this.

She picked up the phone, cleared her throat, and spoke as clearly as possible.

“Roth Residence, this is Raven. Who the fuck are you?”

Okay, so she was taking a bit of creative license.

The voice on the other end started wheezing, gasping for air as he tried to compose himself. Raven waited as patiently as she could, before speaking once more. “Okay then, bye.”

“Wait, wait! Raven? Can you please get me your parent?”

“No, you didn’t tell me who you are,” she stated as if it was obvious, rolling her eyes as her mother turned the corner to see her on the landline.

“Tell them that it’s, uh, Mr. Wilson-” Raven heard the phone murmuring further, but ignored it as she passed it off.

“It’s Mr. Wilson,” she told her mother with a polite nod, before running off to resume her Very Important Meeting with her plush and toys.

Arella shook her head incredulously at her daughter. Precocious and unnerving as she could be, there was never a dull moment with her. That much was certain.

“Hello, this is Are- uh, Angela,” she cleared her throat. It took some getting used to, using a name that still didn’t quite fit as it once did.

“Mrs. Roth, I presume?” Mr. Wilson’s voice nearly purred from the other end. Arella found herself straightening her back. He certainly had her attention.

“Miss,” she corrected gently, “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Wilson?”

The man sighed on the other end, clicking his tongue for a moment, clearly debating how he wanted to phrase his sentence.

“Well, see this is the trouble, Miss Roth. It would seem that someone I trusted gave me the wrong number with which to contact them. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but since I’m only allowed the one call, and your area code indicates you are a Gotham Resident-”

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Arella began twirling the phone’s cord with her finger, smirking to herself. “You need someone, likely this trusted friend, to come and bail you out of prison?”

“Jail, my dear. Prison is for after one has been sentenced. I’ve only just been charged.”

“And that makes it so much better.”

Wilson snorted on the other end, “You’ve got me there. I suppose it doesn’t. Although,” he clicked his tongue once more, “Might it ease your mind if I told you I was being falsely charged?”

There was something in his voice then. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to pinpoint it, but something was telling her that he was being truthful.

And something was telling her, that she needed to meet with this man.

Maybe it was a morbid curiosity. Maybe it was some string of fate. But right there, Arella made a decision.

“In that case, we must have only a few of options here-”

“Now, hold on, what’s this ‘we’-”

“You called my home, Mr. Wilson,” she reminded him, smile not leaving her face. “It’s much too late now that you’ve included myself and my daughter in this mess of yours. She’s a very curious child. She’ll be just dying to know of your fate.”

“Sounds a lot like my Rose,” he chuckled, she heard him shifting a bit as if he was crossing his arm. “I’m sure they’d get on like a house on fire.”

“Hmm, we’d have to see about that, but first, about getting you out of prison-”

“Jail.”

“Right, jail. Which precinct are you being held?”

“So you DO have experience with the law, then,” he stated it as if filing away that tidbit of information for later.

“None that I’d be willing to share over the phone-”

“Perhaps over coffee, then.”

’ _That smooth son of a…_ ’ Arella shook the thought from her head. “Precinct first, Mr. Wilson.”

“Hmm, well here’s the other bit of trouble, Miss Roth,” he sighed one last time, “None of these buffoons can tell me what it is.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

She could practically hear him shaking his head on the other side of the line with the tone his voice took. “If idiots could fly, this place would be a damn airport.” She let out a short laugh, trying to muffle a snort and failing miserably.

Oh yes. She was certainly very curious now about this mysterious Mr. Wilson.


	2. Chapter 2

He was already through with clearing most of the table, all of the dishes having been thoroughly picked to near cleanliness by three  _starving_  kids. (As if they weren’t already eating him out of house and home, ha!) And he’d finally,  _finally_  set to work rinsing most of those  _same damn dishes_  to load the dishwasher.

Only to find  _every_  dish inside placed completely  _haphazardly_ , completely  _at random._  With no care for either the  _aesthetic_ , nor the  _sensibility_  of placing like dishes with like!

It was madness. It was chaos. It simply wasn’t how things were done in a Wilson household, dammit!

Slade mentally went through his suspect list in quick order.

Joey, the sweet boy, had been raised more than right. It simply couldn’t have been him.

Rose was too busy to bother trying to piss him off with something as unsubtle as loading the dishes incorrectly. She was definitely planning something much more nefarious.

And Raven… admittedly, Raven was still hard to figure out at times. But he remembered explaining the method to her once, and they hadn’t had any problems.

Until now.

Slade clenched a fist near his side, feeling his blood pressure rise.

No, it couldn’t be Raven. Which left only one suspect.

“Something the matter, hon?” Arella called from the dining room. She probably heard the lull in clinking dishes, or felt his rage from the room over. He never  _did_  figure out if Raven’s empathy was something she might’ve inherited from her mother…

“The  _dishes_ , Ella!” he yelled back, carefully choosing the nickname he knew would get under her skin.

“What about ‘em?” she entered the kitchen with the last of them in hand, eyebrow quirked as her eyes scanned the scene.

“It’s pretty straight-forward, you know,” she said, “You load them in and-”

“And there’s a  _method_ ,  _El_ ,” Slade sighed, running a hand over his face in resignation.

How they’d managed to do the dishes so many times  _separately_ , he’d never understood. How he’d never known that she could push his button in the worst possible way…

“They all get clean regardless of where they’re put, you know,” she argued. Oh no, the arms were crossed.

_Abort Wilson, abort mission. You won’t survive-_

“It’s easier to put up after.” Shit, he was digging his own grave. She was laughing now in his face. But Slade tried to remain firm.

“I can gather up five,  _six_  plates in a stack, all ready to be put in the cabinet right away. It’s faster, and it looks better when you put it in or take it out-”

“You  _do_  know how that  _sounds_ -”

“Ella,  _please_ -” he breathed a sigh of relief when she uncrossed her arms and started taking the dishes back out of the washer.

“Fine, show me how it’s supposed to look then,” she relinquished.

“Well, the larger plates will be back here. Smaller ones and bowls can be in the front…”

They clumsily set to work rearranging the dish order, a game of porcelain and plastic tetris as they moved towards the upper rack, and as Slade explained the nuances of placing cups and various other utensils in certain rows.

And he slowly watched as Arella became more and more amused at his random justifications for each one, eventually cutting him off as he stumbled.

“Is this a Mercenary thing, or a military thing? Or is it just a  _You-being-anal-about-little-things_ thing?”

Slade found himself straightening his back, eyebrow creasing in indignation. “It’s a  _Wilson_  thing, babe. You already know how I like things to be-”

“To be  _just_  right, sure. But honey,” she took the spatula from his hands, setting the utensil back in the sink as she leaned closer to him, “You’ve got to learn to let some things go. It’s  _never_  going to be perfect.”

“Like hell it is,” he said, wincing a bit as he did.

Okay. Poor choice in a turn of phrase. But that never stopped him before.

Arella chuckled lightly, shaking her head at him.

“I’ll be sure to remember that, then,” she winked for him conspiratorially as she walked away then. Slade let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “For later.” And then she was gone.

A half of a second later, it fully registered that she’d left him alone, to finish both washing and drying the remaining dishes.

He cursed under his breath, muttering about spouses and kids always weaseling their way out of work that was so much quicker with two people.

After everything he does for this family! And no one ever remembers to help with these  _damned_ dishes!


	3. Chapter 3

“We’re going to be sisters,” the white-haired seven-year-old said to the black-haired one. It wasn’t the statement itself that had them both pausing, however. It was the absolute certainty and conviction with which she had said it.

As if she’d seen something to convince her it was so.

The girls stared at each other, each one gauging the other’s reaction to the statement. Already a kind of game forming between them, seeing who would be the first to break away, and slip from this odd stoicism not usually seen in kids so young.

But then again, Rose Wilson and Raven Roth were never destined to be ordinary children.

It was Rose who set the precedent then, breaking into a grin and holding out her hand for the other girl to shake.

“Rose,” she smiled.

“Raven,” the girl nodded.

“What kinda toys do ya play with?” Rose asked, taking the girls hand in a more forceful grip as she led her to the room she’d only just started sharing with her half-brother.

“I think they’re getting along like a house on fire, wouldn’t you?” Arella said while trying to hide her smirk with her tea mug.

“We’ll see how they are when Addie drops off Joseph,” Slade shrugged, “Rose and him seem to get along well enough but…”

The merc shook his head, setting his own coffee mug down as the woman across from him quirked an eyebrow at the movement.

“Worried my girl might cause a rift between them?”

“They’re like any siblings,” Slade frowned, “Damn near impossible to get them to share anything. Food, toys. Hell, even bed-space! They’re small now, but that old ‘pillow down the middle’ trick isn’t going to work for long.”

“Hmm, I’m sure Rose and Raven won’t mind sharing a bed for the night,” Arella reasoned, “It’ll be like a sleepover for them.”

“Yeah, and what about a month from now, when that gets old?”

“Who says  _we’ll_  last the month,” Arella playfully argued back.

…

“When you said we’re going to be sisters,” Raven said, interrupting Rose as she gathered up her dolls for more mindless destruction. “What made you say it… like that?”

“Like what?” Rose asked innocently. She turned one doll over in her hand, inspecting it before passing it along to Raven. “You can have this one. The game is cowboys.”

“You said it like it was… real,” Raven said carefully, running her hand over the doll’s clothes as she looked over it.

“That’s because it is.”

“But how do you know that.”

“Rae, can you keep a secret?” Rose looked her dead in the eyes for the first time since they’d entered the room. Raven could feel the shift in Rose’s whole demeanor, the urgency and excitement at what she was about to share.

And was almost over taken by an insatiable curiosity.

“Yes,” she promised.

“Pinky swear?” the white-haired girl held out the digit, waiting for the other girl to take it. Only a half-second’s hesitation, and they shook their fists on the swear.

“Okay, now tell me!”

“I see things. Like, future things. They’re really brief, and really blurry. But I’m usually kinda right about what I think they’re about.”

Raven raised both her eyebrows at the girl before hearing a tinkling laugh behind her. A curly-haired, blonde boy listening in from the doorway.

“Rosy, you can’t see the future! You can’t even see what Daddy makes for dinner! Even when he’s right in front of you!”

“Shut up, Joey!” Rose threw one of the dolls at the boy, and it clattered violently against the wall. Joey only bent over to pick it up and hand it to Raven.

“Is this Raven? I’m Joey! I’m Rosy’s brother!”

“Half!” Rose glared, sticking her tongue out at the younger boy. And for the first time that afternoon, Raven smiled just a little bit.

Anger, jealousy, and bitterness. But all of it was purely facetious. Because underneath it all, she saw a fierce love. These two had been there for each other through something, and there was no breaking a bond like those forged between siblings.

Maybe there had been something to what this girl had said after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Joseph Wilson had learned from a very young age that sisters, while incredibly fun to hang around, were also functionally useless.

It took much too much bargaining to get them to help out with most chores, even the ones that could be fun.

Like raking leaves, for example.

Rose had made it a game, of which she was the only one truly competing, to see who could gather the  _most_  leaves the  _fastest_. She’d started at the very edge of their backyard, even sneaking through that hole in the fence that their dad refused to fix, to take some from the neighbor’s. She’d been chased off by their dog a few times, and still managed to gather up quite a few piles of leaves from along the edges of the fence within their property as well. She’d used her bare hands and garbage bags to gather up the leaves, taking them four at a time to add to the growing pile in the front yard.

Raven had gone a more traditional route, using an actual rake to gather up the leaves in the front yard. Though every few minutes, she’d take a cautious glance to see if anyone was watching before using her telekinesis to speed things along else where in the yard, or to keep some of her pile from blowing away when the wind picked up.

Which left Joey with what he considered the most difficult job of all; constructing the perfect pile of leaves for them to jump into.

There really was an art to it.

Firstly, the leaves needed to be relatively dry. Half of the fun of jumping in them, was that delicious crunch you could feel underneath your jacket or on your skin, after all.

Secondly, it needed to be piled high enough so that one could enjoy jumping in a few times over, without needing to gather them up regularly. No one should have to work between the fun, of course.

And finally, it had to be positioned  _just so_  beside the tire-swing so that they could hurtle themselves towards it with reckless abandon. But also  _just_  far enough away as to avoid suspicion, should a  _responsible_  (nosy) adult see them jumping into the leaves and sticking their overly concerned noses in their play.

It’d been an unfortunate thing last year, when Rose had landed completely  _wrong_  on her arm and she’d been stuck in a cast for a few weeks. Raven had been there to help the healing along, but even the then nine-year-old had her limits.

Now, being all of ten years old, she and Rose had each made a promise to mother and father both that this fall would see  _minimal_  injury. Though, Joey had his reasons to believe they may have been threatened with promises of what gifts might be withheld, come Christmas time.

“And that’s the LAST of the oak’s leaves by Mr. Bell’s water thingy,” Rose declared triumphantly as she laid her last bag at her brother’s feet. “Are you gonna finish sometime  _today_ , Rae-Rae?”

“We’ve been waiting on  _you_  this whole time, Cyclops.” Raven rolled her eyes as she leaned on the rake, boredom positively emanating from her. “The question is if  _Joey’s_  gonna finish anytime soon.”

“I’m almost there,” he signed, taking Rose’s bag to inspect the leaves. ’ _Dry as bones_ ,’ he noted with a smile before carefully shaking them out over the pile.

He held his hands up in front of his face, framing the scene as if for a shot in a movie. “I think I’ve got it.”

“I call first!” Rose yelled as she raced for the tire-swing. Raven caught up to her just as she reached for it’s tread, and they began wrestling over one another.

“You got to be first last year!”

“Yeah, and I broke my arm! So it doesn’t count!”

“Stop biting! It’s your own fault!”

“Get your elbow-! Ow! Just let me do it!”

Joseph quickly zipped up his jacket all the way up, and climbed carefully onto the swing. Feet planted firmly inside, he began rocking himself. Forward, back. Forward, back. Building up that momentum higher and higher as his sisters distracted themselves with their fighting.

He started to reach the best peak, where he’d get the perfect arc and lift-off. He could practically hear those orange and golden leaves calling his name.

“You’ve got this Joey! Big jump!” Arella called from the porch, a smile in her voice.

Just as the swing reached it’s peak, he let go, and went soaring into the air. The leaves breaking his fall with that wonderful crunch and pinch along his skin. If he could make a sound, he’d have been laughing. But even then, the absolute euphoria he felt as he rolled around in the leaves, practically swimming to find his way out of them, left him thinking little of it.

He’d gotten to something long before either Raven or Rose, and that had to count for  _something_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a crossover with Tales from the Bunker, (but mainly focused on the Rose n Ravens early childhood before the Berserkers)

Rose was the strategist. At least when she remembered to reign in her temper. If they didn’t catch her on a bad day, she could plot and scheme circles around any of her enemies.

Being all of twelve years old, however, those enemies were few and far between.

Raven, however, with not many more of her own enemies and being the same age as Rose, always needed a bit more help in that department. Especially when she found her sister out of commission.

She was in dire straits, and resigned herself to phoning in the next best strategist she knew. At least, the best strategist she knew to exact revenge against other middle schoolers.

But we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here.

This particular incident was due to an unfortunate misunderstanding between passing period, which left Rose suspended, and a couple of kids sent home with injuries of varying fatality. Rose was not without her own injuries, but those were incurred while she was defending her brother’s honor. So she gladly, and rather proudly, endured their sting.

“You should see the other kids,” was a common sentiment that would be echoed around the halls when she eventually was returned to class, battle scars and all.

Even with a suspension on the part of every student involved in the incident, Raven heard enough of the whispers and gossip from all sides to know better. The only way to effectively end all of this nonsense, was to cut it off at the head, to make an example out of the ringleader.

In this particular middle school, that ringleader took the form of a bubbly blonde seventh grader who’s name need not remembering nor be worth the mention-

…

“Okay Dickens, get to the good part,” Klarion whined as he only paid partial attention to Raven’s story. Teekl swatted at his hands playfully, fully engrossed in their game as the cat switched between it’s owner and the small constructs that Miguel made to keep the other half of its attention. “Middle school drama. Rose is M-I-A. Now who’s the mysterious stranger you had to call?”

Duela punched the witch boy’s shoulder for interrupted. “Go on, Rae. Who was it?”

The empath cleared her throat. “You all might remember, before Rose and before Joey… Slade had another son…”

…

“The  _fuck_  do you mean I’ve got two whole-ass sisters now?!”

If Raven could describe Grant’s tone now, without being able to actually feel all of the disbelief that was likely emanating from his form at this moment, it would only be one word: incredulous. She’d just learned that word a week ago, and it was one that definitely helped this whole affair stick out like a sore thumb in her memory.

“I can see military school must be treating you well,” she scoffed, “But I didn’t call to exchange pleasantries or discuss familial ties. I need your help on exacting revenge against these kids and with ending this. Once and for all.” She took a deep breath before muttering darkly, “By any means necessary.”

“Sis, I don’t know you, but I like the attitude,” another pause, and Raven could hear muffled yelling on the other side of the line. She waited patiently for whatever argument he was having with another cadet to finish. “Hope you got a pad and a pen, because you’re gonna wanna take notes. No one messes with my little bro. But since I’m not there to help him, and since she was, I’m gonna help you. And that makes everything square, you got me? Don’t think this means you can just bother me whenever, got it?”

“Are you going to give me those instructions or not? Because this pad’s already almost full of doodles now-”

…

“Liar,” Eddie interrupted, “No way in hell you were that smooth as a twelve year old.”

The other Berserkers shushed their teammate. And Raven pressed on.

…

A plan in three acts.

Act one, the cafeteria. A school wide quote poisoning unquote of the soda fountain and milk cartons. No stone unturned. No beverage left behind.

No mercy for any of these unfortunate souls-

…

“Wait, I’ve see this one,” Miguel interrupted as the Berserkers groaned around him, “Poop-mageddon right? You’re the kid that made all those kids crap their pants and inspired that doc-”

“No fucking way!” “That’s impossible!” “But that wasn’t actually real-”

“ _Judas Hecking Priest_! Will anyone just  _let her finish_?!” Rose yelled over the chorus of protests, “Are we really gonna ruin _another damn story_  like this? Do ya just wanna skip to the punchline? Yeah, Raven made them all poop their pants in a glorious prank! She made sure that bitch knew to back the fuck off of Joey! Just  _once_  can we have a story told around here with some  _poetry_  before y'all try to guess the end and ruin it!  _Christ_!”

A silence befell the team as the fidgeted nervously. Some looked away in shame. And after a few more beats of silence, Conner found the bravery to ask, “So wait… did Raven  _actually_  make that happen or… were you messing with us right now?”

The half-demon only gave a devious smile.

“Every tall tale has elements of truth to them, Conner. That’s what makes a truly great story become an excellent one.”

“Yeah, but your execution’s gonna need a little work,” Klarion shot off one last time before Raven flipped his chair with a flick of her wrist.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jason n ravens first date, (though they'll deny it for years to come)

She didn’t know what to expect, when Jason showed up at the front door for their date. But a confrontation between the scrawny teen and her imposing stepdad was the  _furthest_  thing from her mind.

The fourteen year old had brought flowers with him, which was certainly a nice touch. And he had Alfred bring him in a fairly humble town car, when she half expected him to pull out the  _big guns_  for making the  _best_  first impression with a  _limousine_.

He probably knew that she resolved to  _un-accept_  his request if or when he ever tries to pull such a stunt, though.

Then again, with how Slade was staring down the boy now, she wasn’t so sure if he’d ever get the opportunity to try such a thing.

“They’re roses,” Jason smiled, his spray of freckles bounced with his grin as he held them up a little higher, offering them for Raven to accept. His eyes betrayed his nervousness, glancing between father and step-daughter.

“They’re yellow,” Slade grumbled. “Do you know what yellow roses mean, kid?” The mercenary folded his arms across his chest, straightening his back as he glared hard at the boy standing on his porch.

“Dad.  _Cut it out_ ,” Raven growled with a glare to rival the merc’s, taking the roses from the boy’s hands, “The flowers are  _lovely_ , Jason. Thank you.”

“Thanks, Rae. It’s, uhhh, it’s for  _friendship_  and  _happiness_ ,” Jason gulped out, before taking another quick glance at the man behind her, “S- _sir_.”

“Because he’s a  _friend_ , dad,” the teen empath reminded, “ _Just_  a friend.”

“Just a friend  _my ass!_ ” Rose called from somewhere behind, “Ra-ven and Jay-son,  _sitting in a tree_! K-” Before she had the chance to finish the schoolyard jingle, Raven’s eyes glowed white for the shortest of seconds, as she reached back with her soul-self to trip up Rose’s path towards the door. The girl smiled with satisfaction as she heard her sister hit the floor behind them,  _hard_.

She quickly shoved the flowers into Slade’s hands as he turned at the sound, and took Jason’s hand to lead them in a running start towards the town car.

“Don’t wait up! We’ll be back home by ten!” she called over her shoulder as she urged the boy to walk faster.

“Where the  _hell_  are you two going,  _anyway_?” the merc yelled just before his daughter’s head disappeared into the car.

“Bowling,  _sir_!”

“Bye, Dad!”

And just like that, the teens disappeared behind heavily tinted windows, and were swept away in a timely manner by their chauffeur.

“How do you think she’ll do?” Slade asked his remaining daughter behind him as she dusted herself off.

“Honestly? With how  _competitive_  Jay-bird is, and how  _great_  Rae is at  _everything_ …” She paused in thought as she joined her father’s side, staring at the spot down the street where the car disappeared around the corner. “I give ‘em an hour tops, before they’re at each other’s throats.”

“And their  _friendship_  claim?” he asked, raising a brow skeptically.

“ _Totally_  false,” Rose grinned, “Otherwise she would’ve taken his  _out_ , and brought  _me_  and  _Joey_  along, too.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from tumblr: for a family tradition & joey's first year without his sisters joining him in it

There's an old ice cream shop in Otisburg, that sells such monstrous sugary concoctions, it's a wonder that it hadn't been shut down by Public Safety or the Batman himself. Like many similar ice cream shops, they worked on a very simple model; any mixture of candy and cream, all sold by the weight of said mixture.

The owner of Mr. Mix-Up's Creamery, Mr. Mix himself, was fond of a certain trio that stopped in more often than probably was healthy for growing boys and girls. And he knew their favorite orders by heart, naturally.

First, there was Rose. Self-proclaimed sweet tooth that she had, she most often opted for a tried and true dutch chocolate ice cream, littered with various peanut butter and chocolate candies and topped with a cherry syrup. Then, there was Raven. After trying every new flavor at  _least_  one time first, she usually chose strawberry, mixed well with marshmallow and various caramel chunks, and topped with chocolate sprinkles. And finally there was Joey, who usually liked to try a brand new combination of flavors and toppings, to see if it really was possible to try everything once. They had a running tally of each and every combination he'd tried so far, and was almost completely through all of the Pecan combinations, surprisingly.

Though that February wind was biting and bitterly cold that year, Mr. Mix wasn't surprised to see the youngest of the Roth-Wilsons enter his beloved shop that afternoon. Contrary to popular belief, sales never saw a significant dip during the winter season, for Mr. Mix-Up's Creamery. In fact, due to the Roth-Wilson's patronage, and their insistence on bringing as many friends as they could to the little ice cream shop in Otisburg, the business would do fairly well for itself despite the frigid temperatures that Gotham City would normally see. And it certainly warmed his heart, to see his favorite little miscreants planning something no good through a sugar-fueled rush.

But on that afternoon, there was only Joey, with no older sisters clamoring in ahead of him. Mr. Mix greeted him just the same, thick eastern european accent heavy on his words.

"Where are your sisters, young Joe? Setting fire to another car?" the shopkeep laughed to himself as he set to work cleaning the scoop for Joey's order.

"I'd like Rose's ice cream today, Mix," Joey signed, his hands a bit shaky from the cold, or so it seemed. "It's... almost her birthday, you know."

"How could I forget? Valentine's, yea? What a wonderful day! Ah, to celebrate love and life!" he hummed brightly to himself as he set to work scooping the dutch chocolate. "Will you three be together, then? For sweet Rose's birthday?"

Joey shook his head, pausing as he peeled off his mittens. "Rose and Raven... are both in California now."

"That's right, it comes back to me. College and all," the shopkeep waved the scoop dismissively before he started to sprinkle peanut butter and chocolate chips into the order. "That is right, this time of year, it is when your family first became whole, yea? Yes, now I remember. You could barely peek up over the countertop, you were so small then!"

"Still am pretty small-" Joey smiled.

"Bah! You've become a fine young man, Joseph. And you be sure to tell your sisters for me, that they better stay out of trouble, so that they can visit my shop this summer. And so I can give them proper scolding for missing family anniversary, yea?"

"Will do, Mix," the teen nodded as he took the treat from the man.

Just as he began to reach for his wallet, Mr. Mix shook his head firmly.

"It is your sister's treat. She will pay." Joey stared at the man incredulously for a split second, before his shoulders began to shake with quiet laughter and soft wheezes, to which Mix joined in with his own uproarious howling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt requests are always open at my dc tumblr @dyketectivecomics  
> if ya like what ya read up on here, there's plenty more to be found!


	8. Babysitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Grant's put in charge of babysitting his younger siblings. this goes as well as you'd expect.

"I can expect the  _best_  behavior from you nerds," Grant began to answer, with a smug grin on his face, "Because I have two tickets to  _Gotham AniCon_."

The trio of siblings let out soft gasps as the eldest held the vouchers aloft. Though printed on plain white paper with a mix of red text and orange splashes, they were as good as golden to those bright, prepubescent eyes.

"It's too bad I only had enough money to spare to bring my favorite  _sibling_ ," he said, sighing with cartoonish anguish as he continued, "That's  _singular, bee tee dubs_. Looks like they'll have to do their best to remind me just  _who_  that is. And y'know... It's  _thirsty_  work trying to remember-"

Like two gunshots, Rose and Joey began a mad sprint for the kitchen, each trying to trip the other or otherwise injure and impede. Clinks and crashes of glass could be heard down the hall, Rose's indignant voice somehow ringing louder over all of it as she let out a series of curses to make even a sailor blush.

But Raven stayed behind, eyes narrowing suspiciously at her oldest step-sibling.

"It's not going to work," she stated bluntly as Grant sized her up in amusement, "Pitting us against each other like this? I can simply ask Mother to buy enough tickets for all of us-"

"After she hears about how  _you_  wrecked the house, Rae-Rae?" he asked. Before she had time to react, even sense what he was about to do through the erie calm he carried himself with, he punched a hole right into the wall. His voice took on a different tone, pleading and mocking all at once as he rehearsed his excuses. "I  _tried_  to  _stop her,_  Dad,  _really_. But she went  _crazy_  when I just  _mentioned_  the con!"

The young empath's eyes were wide as he drew closer to her, self-satisfied smirk on his face. "I don't think she can  _handle_  it."

He stopped right in front of her, arms crossing over his chest as she settled on glaring up at him. "Or she can simply forfeit the contest, and  _maybe_  I'll consider blaming that gaping hole in the wall on one of the other  _losers_  instead."

"That's all I needed to hear," Raven nodded, summoning a tape recorder into existence and softly clicking it off. She rewinded the tape for half a second before playing back Grant's voice, ringing loud and clear as Rose and Joey both entered the room once again, drinks for the three of them in hand.

Now it was Rose's turn to be mocking. "It happened almost as  _soon_  as you left, Daddy. First, Grant made a  _mess_  in the kitchen, and then he started  _punching walls_ -"

"He  _destroyed_  the  _Gamestation_!" Joey signed with over-the-top outrage, a playful smile on his face. The beloved console  _had_  seen better days, after all.

"And then he threatened to blame it  _all on us_ ," Raven finished.

A beat of silence as the trio gave smiles of their own and as Grant's eyes traveled between theirs, all steely sapphires and pensive amethyst. And slowly, he started clapping. "Well played," he nodded. "How about... I buy two extra tickets, you guys clean up the mess and we all agree not to try this again?"

"I don't know... I think I may have suffered a little emotionally and psychologically from all of that," Rose admitted, "You should probably throw in tickets for the Burnside Comic Expo, too."

Joey and Raven both nodded solemnly as Grant let out a groan. "Yep. That should just about cover the emotional turmoil we just went through."

" _None_  of you are my favorite sibling now."

"Feeling's mutual, Grant," Rose laughed before sticking out her tongue at the teen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> request from my tumblr (@dyketectivecomics). drop on by for more requests, ask abt the AU, or just to say hi!


	9. Kane Family Reunion

The Wayne family didn’t do family functions. Or at least, they never traditionally hosted too many of them. Always a gala to plan or a party to play patron to. The Waynes had built Gotham, and if there were ever a reason or occasion for reunion, it could always come during one of those events.

That is what separated the Waynes from the Kanes. Because the Kanes understood the importance of family, and of those traditions that bind one to it.

But this was something that, for the most part, Bruce had selectively decided to reject. The family he came to rely on was not so much the blood relatives he vaguely knew, but the children and mentors who he had chosen and had in turn chosen him.

Even if, at this moment while they all raided the snack table right alongside Wilson’s kids, he was really starting to wish that they hadn’t chosen each other.

Those kids. Wilson’s kids. Slade Wilson’s kids.

Bruce turned over the file in his mind then.

Slade Wilson. Ex-military, current assassin. Codename: Deathstroke the Terminator. Divorced from Adeline Kane, and currently married to Arella Roth. Two sons with Kane, a daughter with someone unknown, step-daughter from Roth.

Bruce sniffed in distaste as he held up the champange flute, carefully watching everyone around him as he sipped at the ginger ale.

A gun-for-hire, family by marriage. In a sense. Certainly not on the Holiday card mailing list. He’d have to ask Alfred to be sure of that, though.

He made eye contact with Wilson then, just as Adeline and Kate began their own exchanges. Clear across the garden, but the daggers they sent one another almost seemed as if they could physically manifest at any moment.

Between them, at that dreaded snack buffet, their children were the only thing standing now between all-out war breaking. A shared truce for their sakes, an uneasy agreement to keep things civil while their kids got along.

Joey and Cass were animatedly signing with one another, something about music and ballet. Grant seemed to be trying to pick a fight with Dick, who appeared to be successfully ignoring the eldest Wilson as he cherrypicked some sweets onto a plate. Raven and Tim were a bit more reserved, all gentle smiles and awkward gestures as they navigated what looked to be an amicable debate. Which only left-

“Un-be-lievable,” Bruce growled lowly, watching as Jason and Rose not-so-discreetly tried to sneak away from the party. He looked back to see if Wilson had caught wind of this, a shock running through his system as he failed to place the man.

As his eyes hurriedly scanned the crowd, mild panic set in, that he allowed himself to be distracted so much as to-

“Bruce, it’s been years,” a voice called out, strong and melodic. A voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time.

“Ang-” She cut him off before he’d even formed the rest of the thought.

“Arella now. Roth-Wilson,” she smiled, and her eyes seemed to carry just a tinge of sorrow, “There’s… too much to catch up on…”

“I… have time,” he said carefully, mission and mindset from before all but almost completely forgotten now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> request from my tumblr @dyketectivecomics


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